


Improving Circulation

by Ashling



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Injury Recovery, M/M, Massage, POV Second Person, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25542925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashling/pseuds/Ashling
Summary: If only Sam weren't so damn helpful...
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes/Sam Wilson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18
Collections: Battleship 2020 - Yellow Team





	Improving Circulation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meatball42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/gifts).



Sam is cocky and patient, charming and gentle, a good shot and a good listener too. A crush is the natural option, but it makes life pretty difficult sometimes. It's one thing to have a handsome man flirt with you when you're chilling out with some coffee in the floor of Stark Tower that you've mentally dubbed the Avengers Cafeteria. It's another thing to have a handsome man flirting with you when you're still sweating from rehab exercises and you've got your sweatpants off and he's got his hands on your legs.

"You sure this is necessary?" you say.

"Why, you trying to get rid of me?"

"Never." Okay, so maybe you flirt back a little. You're only human!

"Stark says it'll help improve circulation," he says.

That's what you're afraid of. Whatever techno gobbledygook that Banner and Shuri cooked up in their Geek Squad floor of the tower, it's working from the waist down; you have feeling back in your thighs, a little in your knees, none in your feet. And, uh.

"It's working," you say, deadpan.

"Oh, yeah?" Sam leans back, hands still kneading your left calf, and shoots you a quizzical look. It's all you can do not to cringe when he figures it out. He grins. "Is this your first boner, Rhodey? I'm flattered."

"Sorry." You wish you could sprint away, but without your braces, you can't really move.

"Don't be." His hands skim higher to your thighs. His thumbs trace coaxing little circles. "It's a medical improvement. Calls for celebration, right?"

You give him an out, just in case. "What, like a beer?"

"Like a blowjob?" His hands go higher; his fingers slip under the edge of your boxers.

"Shit." It doesn't get better than this, does it? "You don't have to ask me twice."


End file.
